


Life After Death

by merryghoul



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: F/M, Gen, Kid Fic, Post-Series, Presumed Dead, Trope Subversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:19:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryghoul/pseuds/merryghoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fiona, Michael and Charlie in the "afterlife."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life After Death

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: presumed dead

Sam is standing in front of the graves of Michael and Fiona when he's met by the groundskeeper of the cemetery the two are buried in.

"They were your friends, right?" the groundskeeper asks.

"They were."

"Why do you come here often?"

"They were my best friends and I miss them a lot.  I wish they weren't in that explosion downtown.  They didn't deserve that.  They should be here today, having a drink with me at Carlito's.  Instead they were taken down by a coward with a kill switch.  At least that bastard's dead."

"That was terrible, what you and your friends went through."

"The only good thing that came out of this is I can go back to Carlito's without everyone staring me down.  But it's not the same without my friends."

"Nothing's the same without your friends, isn't it?"

"You can say that again."

"I gotta keep moving.  Nice talking to you."

The groundskeeper moves on to another part of the cemetery.

Sam leans into Michael's grave and whispers "I’m still waiting for that postcard, buddy."

 

"Auntie Fi, can I go?"

Fiona is in the living room of her home painting Charlie on a canvas with acrylic paints.  Charlie is squirming around in his little chair.

"I'm almost done, Charlie."

Fiona adds a few more strokes to the canvas before putting down her paintbrush.  

"Is it finished?"

"Yes, it's finished, Charlie."

"Can I see it?"

"You're not going to tell Uncle Michael about this until Valentine's Day?"

"No."

"Okay."

Charlie gets up and walks to Fiona.

"Can't see."

"Hold on."

Fiona takes off her smock. 

"Sit in my lap.  Then you'll be able to see."

Fiona picks up Charlie and sits him in her lap.

"It's me!"

"It is you.  This is my Valentine's Day present for your Uncle Michael."

"Birthday?"

"Birthday?  Oh, you mean _my_ birthday.  No, your Uncle Michael's going to get me something."

"What?"

"I don't know.  It's supposed to be a surprise.  You get surprises on your birthday."

"I get a surprise?"

"On your birthday?  Yes, Charlie, you'll get a surprise on your birthday."

There's a knock on the cottage door.  Fiona puts Charlie down.

"That must be your Uncle Michael.  Let's go meet him."

"Okay."

Fiona and Charlie walk to the front door of the cabin.  Michael's standing at the front door.

"We gotta go, Fi."

"What's happening?"

"We got a job."

 

Michael, Fiona, and Charlie met with a woman in a sparsely populated café on the outskirts of Dublin.

"Is that your snapper?"

Michael blinks.  "Snapper?"

Fiona leans into Michael's ear as Charlie's playing with her hair.  "She means Charlie.  It's a word we use for children."

"Oh.  Yes, he's ours."

"He's adorable.  But I came to you because I have a wee bit of money troubles.  I'm trying to buy a new house somewhere near the Irish Sea.  I gave that money to a man who said he'd take care of it for me until I found the perfect place.  I've found it, a small house in Dalkey.  I want to buy the place…"

"But the man took off with your money."

"Word on the street is that he's a money launderer."

"They're all weasels," Fiona said.

"We can help you find the money launderer.  And once we find him, we'll give you back the money."

"Do you want some of it for your fee?"

"If you need the money for your house, you don't have to pay us.  Keep it for _your_ house.  When you get the money back, you'll be able to move to Dalkey."

"Thank you so much, Michael."

"Excuse me, but we never got your name," Fiona said.

"Gael."

And just like that, Gael was Michael and Fiona's latest client.


End file.
